


He'll live in your skin

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon-Typical Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Homophobic Language, Horror, Kissing, M/M, Psychological Horror, pennywise the homophobic clown, starts out nice but takes a dark turn lol, vomit indiscretion shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 21:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Richie and Eddie have a moment in the barrens





	He'll live in your skin

**Author's Note:**

> UHHHHH yeah adhere to the warnings

It’s quiet in the barrens when you’re alone. The water is more of a trickle than a stream at this time of year, when the full heat of august bares down upon the state of Maine, and Richie feels like he’s in the Sahara Desert. Black flies buzz lazily about and he keeps having to swipe at them when they come a little too close to landing on his sweaty forehead for comfort. He fans his face lazily with one of the comic books he’s brought- the newest issue of Batman. He’s read it before, but he reread it today, sitting on the embankment leaning against his backpack, a Milky Way in his other hand, and he finished the candy as he finished his comic and threw the wrapper on the ground and retrieved another comic from his pack. There was another Milky Way sitting inside- he didn’t touch that one. It wasn’t his.

The birds are chattering in the trees, and he strains to hear their songs. He wishes Stan could’ve made it. He would appreciate the birds. He’d probably know the species by the sound of their tweets. But he’s busy today, doing some Jew thing, and Ben’s also busy with summer school, and Mike’s got things to do on his Uncles farm, and he doesn’t give a shit what Bill’s up to- his face still stings when he touches it the wrong way- and Bev’s always hanging out with Bill now, so the only one he’s hanging with today is Eddie. Which he doesn’t mind, not at all. Maybe they’ll go to the Clubhouse and he’ll actually get some time in the hammock

(_maybe he’ll hop in with you)_

and he can read his comics in peace, away from the flies, but it’s never really peaceful when Eddie’s there ‘cause he always has something stupid to say, something annoying, and Richie always annoys him back ‘cause it’s fun and funny and he loves the way he can so easily get under his skin

(_It’s almost like you live there)_

and they’ll banter until Eddie starts to fuss and maybe they’ll end up wrestling and-

And something’s walking through the undergrowth. It’s not the usual path they take to get to this spot so he knows its not one of his friends, is _positive _its an unwanted visitor, because the noise is coming from the left when it should be coming from the right. Richie tenses up, his Batman comic hanging limp in his grip. A fly lands on his forehead and he blinks, shaking his head only the barest minimum to drive it away. He thinks of the teenage werewolf and a severed torso crawling through the undergrowth and of clowns with red balloons and gets ready to run, but then Eddie comes through the bushes, panting, his arm in a cast and his fanny pack filled to the brim and Richie lets out a long breath.

“Coming the long way ‘round?” Richie says, and Eddie shrugs. He takes a seat next to Richie,

(_he’s so close you could reach out and touch his thigh)_

peering at the Batman comic in his hands. “Is that the new issue?” He asks, and Richie hands it to him.

“Batman get’s trapped in Mister Freeze’s freeze ray at the end,” he says as Eddie flips through the pages, smiling as Eddie lets out a groan of frustration. “It’s a cliffhanger.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Eddie says, and Richie laughs again. It’s always a good time when he’s hanging with Eddie. It’s easy to make him squirm and to annoy the shit out of him, and what can Richie say? He thrives off reactions. Lives off them, in fact. It isn’t blood coursing through his veins but laughter and annoyed groans and without his supply he thinks he’d wither up and die.

He stares out at the shrinking barrens and remembers the Milky Way. He digs through his backpack until he finds the desired treat and hands it to Eddie. Eddie takes it without a word, his eyes flicking to Richie’s for a moment of unspoken thanks, and Richie feels warm. The august sun sure is a bitch.

Eddie takes a bite out of the Milky Way. Richie starts to talk, like he always does, talk about cartoons and the newest comics and how far he threw his baseball the other day and how much he’s dreading going back to school, and Eddie sits there quietly, more quiet than usual, but Richie supposes that might be because he’s still tired from the walk over and Milky Ways are his favourite chocolate and he probably wants to savour it. Richie’s more than happy to talk for the both of them, but he always prefers when Eddie talks too because he always says the stupidest shit and Richie always says the stupidest shit back and then they’ll squabble and eventually they’ll laugh and go and get ice cream. Richie could always go for some vanilla, and its Eddies turn to buy.

But Eddie’s done his chocolate, now, and though he hasn’t said much he looks deep in thought, his gaze fixed on Richie’s. There’s a bit of chocolate stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Richie’s spent enough time looking at that mouth that its distracting as all Hell. “You got some on your mouth,” he says, and without thinking he reaches forward and swipes it off with his thumb. He freezes mid swipe, realizing what he’s doing, and Eddie’s eyes widen. They stare at each other for a long moment, and then Richie retracts his hand like it’s been burned. He clenches his teeth and forces a laugh. “You looked like you’d been eating shit.”

“Richie,” Eddie says bluntly. He’s looking at him with a fierce expression. “Do you like me?”

(_you fucking _love _him)_

Richie’s breath catches in his throat. He forces out a coughing laugh.

(_you want to kiss him and touch him and maybe shove your hands down his pants and)_

“Do I look like a fairy to you?” He says, and the words lash his tongue as they leave his mouth. “You just look so much like your mom that sometimes I get lost in your eyes.”

“I’m being serious,” Eddie says, scooting closer. Sweat drips down Richie’s forehead, and he curses the sun. “Do you like me?”

“Stop being weird,” Richie says. He intends to scoot away, he really does, but he can’t bring himself to move as Eddie places a hand on his thigh, and Richie’s sweating more than he has all summer.

“Because I like you.”

It’s cheesy, but it feels like time stops. The forest is eerily and uncharacteristically silent as Richie processes the words. The only bugs around are the butterflies in his stomach, and he feels like maybe he might puke. His mouth is dry, and for the first time in his life he’s speechless. He knows he must be blushing. He looks down, away from Eddie, but his gaze lands on the cold hand on his thigh. He clenches his eyes shut. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, but it’s probably the quietest he’s spoken in his life.

He feels a peck on his cheek. He’s pretty sure his heart stops beating. “That was kind of gay,” he whispers.

(_but are you not?)_

Richie looks up, and Eddie’s so close the two are breathing the same hot summer air. Eddie’s hand squeezes Richie’s thigh ever so slightly, and Richie feels lightheaded, like he might faint, and then Eddie presses forwards and puts their mouths together really quick and he thinks he _does _black out for a second or two because when he comes to Eddies hand is trailing up his leg and Richie might not just faint, he might just die, because he just had his first kiss with one of his best friends. “Is that alright?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Richie, for the second time that day and the second time in his life, is speechless yet again. He just nods a little bit, and Eddie seems to take that as a cue to kiss him again, a little harder, and Richie feels Eddie’s tongue touch his lips and he pulls away quick, but Eddie follows him. He kisses him twice, quick but hard, and Richie smiles despite how hard his heart is pounding in his chest.

“Aren’t you worried about catching some disease?” He says, the question burning at the sudden- but not unwanted- change in the hypochondriac’s behaviour. Eddie’s given him lectures on the ‘dangers of kissing’ more than once before, and Richie was quite frankly expecting him to wait until marriage to do so much as hold hands.

Eddie shrugs and smiles. “I don’t mind if it’s with you,” he says, and that’s enough for Richie. He pushes forward and presses their lips together, and this is the first kiss _Richie’s_ given someone, and that thought’s makes his chest feel tight and free all the same. He moves back after a long moment of just sitting there, lip to lip, and takes in a deep breath- turns out you need to take breaks to breathe when you’re kissing. That was something he didn’t think about until this very moment.

When he tries again, Eddie sticks his tongue in Richie’s mouth. It’s a sudden shock to have another appendage sliding around your mouth cavity, and Richie almost jerks back instinctively, but Eddie rubs his thigh and Richie feels better and tries to suck on Eddie’s tongue and it’s so hot and Richie is lightheaded as all Hell because he certainly didn’t expect _this _to happen today.

Eddie leans forward and maneuvers himself into Richie’s lap. They kiss for what feels like a long time, but probably isn’t more than a few minutes at most, and Richie feels like he’s died and gone to heaven as Eddie gently caresses him, moving his good hand up and down his side and back and it sends happy little shivers up his spine.

Then Eddie touches him right on the crotch, quick but hard, right where there’s a little bit- a lot a bit- of a bulge starting to grow, and suddenly everything is _too much. _

_ (how would you know what’s ‘too much’ when you barely ever touch yourself because all you think about at night is men?)_

“Ok,” he says, pulling back with a soft laugh. “That’s- that’s enough.” But Eddie doesn’t let up. He pulls him back in, pushes their mouths back together, and Richie’s heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest as Eddie moves to grip his shirt tight as a noose. But he rolls with it- this is what he’s always wanted, right? Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it but this is the best thing that’s happened all summer, and his heart must be thumping because he’s so excited, and its starting to smell kind of weird but that’s probably just hormones or something- Bev always complained about how smelly the boys were, but he’s never smelled like this. So he rolls with it because Eddie’s shoving his tongue into his mouth, and its longer than he expected, and is it longer than it was before? He doesn’t know. It feels like its going right down his throat.

He pulls back, separating them, gasping for air. He briefly wonders if Eddie will let him use his inhaler, but Eddie pulls him back with force, and Richie’s head is spinning. Why does it smell like the fucking _sewer? _His palms are sweating, and he desperately tries to wipe them on his own jeans as Eddie pushes him backwards. He hits the forest floor with an uncomfortable _oof _and Eddie grabs hold of his head, holding it steady as he looks down at him. Shouldn’t that hurt his broken arm? _This isn’t making sense I’m scared_

“Is this what you wanted, fag?” Eddie says with a laugh. His hands feel like claws where they clench around his head, and Richie’s heart thumps in his chest. “You wanted to fuck your best friend?”

_ No, _he thinks, but

_ (yes you do)_

_ Maybe its true I don’t know this is too much too fast get out of my head I want to go home mommy please _

Eddie smiles knowingly and his teeth have gotten sharper, sharp enough to tear out your heart. He pats Richie’s cheek gently with one hand while the other slides down the front of his chest. Richie tries to pull away, but he’s trapped between Eddie and the forest floor, and Eddie giggles as he watches Richie struggle. He keeps on dragging his hand down, lower and lower, and his fingernails must be growing longer because they slice through his shirt and welts spring up on his skin along the trail they blaze, and the imposter only stops when its hands find his belt. Richie freezes, his breath coming out in small gasps, and his eyes meet with Eddies as Eddie says, “want me to tickle your pickle? Or should we make a stop at the kissing bridge first? But I guess we've already gotten that out of the way, huh, gayboy?"

Its eyes are yellow, and Its laugh is almost as sharp as It’s teeth.

Richie screams. He kicks his legs and flails his arms trying to punch at the monster wearing Eddies face, but it does nothing. He’s fallen for Its trap hook, line and sinker, and Richie is sure he’s about to die. “You fucker!” He screams in defiance, and It only laughs again.

“What’s wrong, Richie?” It says, “I thought you loved him?” There’s rotten flesh dripping from its open mouth, stuck between the teeth. Some of the meat lands on Richie’s face as It leers over him. Richie feels bile rise in his throat. “Did you want something more? A blowjob, perhaps?” It laughs as Richie recoils as Its words. “For you, I’d do it for a dime!”

His glasses are smeared with sweat and dirt and viscera, and he watches the blurry form of Its tongue elongating out from Its mouth. Richie clenches his mouth shut but the tongue wiggles between his lips, and it tastes like death. Richie shakes his head and gags around the intruding muscle, trying to force it back out with his own tiny tongue, but that does nothing besides enhancing the flavour of decomposition- _children, _he thinks, _oh God I’m tasting the missing children._

He manages to get his hands up and beats against Its chest with all the strength he can muster, but It doesn’t even budge. He feels the tongue slithering down his throat and vomit rises to meet it, but It doesn’t seem to mind and shoves Its tongue down further and it feels like he’s being torn apart. Perhaps he is. Perhaps he’s about to die. His heart is beating harder than it has in his life, harder than it had at Neibolt House, and maybe he’d die from that alone. Tears stream from his eyes, and deliriously he thinks _at least Eddies not actually here and not actually hurting me and can’t see how pathetic I am Bill you were right I’m sorry I_

The tongue pulls back suddenly. He coughs pathetically, saliva and bile flying from his mouth and coating his face in even more filth. His throat burns like someone’s stuck a hot rod down it. Richie looks up at the creature leering over him, the monster that’s been murdering and tormenting and _eating _the townsfolk_, _and It looks thoroughly pleased.

“Fear…” It sighs as Its jaws stretch open, tearing apart Eddies sweet face and Richie can do nothing but watch in horror as-

“What the _fuck,” _he hears a familiar voice say, and Richie cries with relief instead of terror when he sees Eddie, the _real _Eddie, standing stock still near the underbrush, his eyes wide with shock. Other Eddie- _It- _turns to look back, Its opened mouth turning into a sharp smile, and Richie takes this opportunity to kick forward with all his strength. His foot collides square with It’s chest and It falls back with a surprised noise, Its clawing hands flying off of his belt and Richie’s on his feet faster the you can say “_get me the fuck out of here”_, screaming “MOVE!” to real Eddie, who takes his advice and flees back the way he came with a girly scream. Richie is not far behind him. Thorns and branches whip and tear at Richie’s uncovered arms as he holds them up to cover his face but he barely feels them as he tears through the undergrowth. He hears crunching and laughing behind him and knows It’s following, It sounds bigger now, crashing through the undergrowth in turn, hot on their heels and Richie thinks _I don’t want to die not here not like this, _and then there’s light everywhere and the forest is behind them. They’re running across the field near the road and the crashing noises stop but the two boys don’t stop running until they make it to the safety of the road. Richie chances a look behind him and he sees nothing. No big creature, no Other Eddie, no Eddie who wouldn’t listen to him and wanted to hurt him and violate him and _eat _him. He collapses to the pavement, chest heaving, and Eddie nearly trips as he fumbles for the inhaler in his fanny pack. He collapses to the ground in turn, sucking medicine into his lungs in long, shaky breaths.

“I never want to see that _fucking _leper ever again,” Eddie wheezes through his coughs when they finally come to a stop, and Richie’s heart seizes in his chest. _He saw the leper, _he thinks, and he doesn’t know exactly what he should feel, but one of the feelings he does feel is _relief._

“I thought it was-“ _you_, his mind offers, and his mile a minute mouth always repeats what’s on his mind but for once he’s able to stop it just in time and blurt out, “your mom.” 

Eddie scoffs, then his asthma starts up again and he’s puffing his inhaler like it’s the worlds dankest hit of weed. Richie watches the way his whole body shakes as he struggles for breath. Both of Eddies hands are clenched- one tight around the inhaler, the other balled tight into a fist. Richie thinks that much stress on a broken arm must be painful, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice or care. He only lets his muscles soften when he’s done inhaling his medicine like he’s a dying man. He plops to the ground with a strangled sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his good arm. “I don’t give a shit what you thought it was, I never want to see you sucking face with _anything _ever again.”

That stings, but not as much as Richie thinks it should. “Does that count as my first kiss?” Richie tries, but it feels hollow. He feels like crying. He looks at Eddie and thinks of pushing hands and lashing tongues and feels betrayal in his heart, though he knows deep down it wasn’t _him _it was _It_ and that thought makes him want to throw up, so he does.

The taste of bile is almost a relief; it replaces the taste of decay that’s settled in his pallet. Eddie takes a few steps back as Richie empties his stomach onto the street, his expression a mixture of worry and disgust. When Richie’s done, he wipes a shaking hand over his mouth, thinking about how far down his throat Its tongue managed to go, and he throws up again.

He feels empty when he finally spits out the last of his puke, like someone’s stuck a vacuum cleaner down his throat and sucked everything out. He sits back on his haunches and takes a few deep breaths, trying to hold his tears back. He hears Eddie gag behind him and take another puff of his inhaler.

Richie leans his head back and takes off his glasses, feeling the sun warm his prickled skin. He wipes roughly at his watering eyes and his tear and dirt covered face before he puts his glasses back on. He sits for a long moment, trying to get his breathing under control, trying not to think of Eddie or It or the barrens or anything at all.

Something touches his arm and he jerks so hard he thinks he might’ve pulled a muscle, but when he turns around it’s just Eddie. He offers him a hand, and Richie takes it, letting himself be pulled to his shaking feet. He doesn’t want to touch Eddie, but at the same time he can’t seem to let go. Richie looks into Eddie’s eyes, and they aren’t yellow, they’re brown, and Richie thinks _they were brown then too, for a while, _but the more he thinks the more he realizes there wasn’t anything_ there _in the other Eddie’s eyes. They weren’t alive, not really. They’d had a far away look to them, like there was nothing behind them, no soul or anything. Richie squeezes Eddie’s hand, and Eddie’s eyes light up with _something, _and Richie thinks _It’s eyes didn’t do anything at all, _and Eddie squeezes his hand right back. Richie smiles shakily, and Eddie smiles too, looking a little confused and a lot worried, but he looks like he _cares, _and that’s all Richie could ask for.

Eddie moves away, breaking their connection, and the moment is over. “I have mouthwash at my house,” he says, wiping his hand on his shirt. Richie realizes how sweaty he is, how clammy his own hands were. He should feel bad about that. He doesn’t. He just nods, and as Eddie starts off in the direction of his house, Richie turns to take one last look at the barrens. It’s calm and quiet and the birds are singing, and Richie thinks of the things lurking in the undergrowth, in the canals and in the sewers, and he shivers.

Needless to say, it feels _great _to kill that fucking clown.

**Author's Note:**

> EPIC BRUH MOMENT  
im @sexynastydimple on twitter


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